


Unsettled Nighttime Creatures

by curlspen



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: (A little bit??), (just a bit), Alpha/Omega, Begging, Bottom Jeremiah Valeska, Brother/Brother Incest, Daddy Kink, Dom/sub, First Time Bottoming, Foot Fetish, Humiliation, M/M, Masochism, Mentions of Animal Cruelty, Mildly Dubious Consent, Omega Verse, Past Child Abuse, Past Sexual Abuse, Praise Kink, Sadism, Top Jerome Valeska, Unhealthy Relationships, mentions of parent/child incest
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-03
Updated: 2020-08-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:01:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25686220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/curlspen/pseuds/curlspen
Summary: Jeremiah is an Omega, Jerome is an Alpha; everything is perfect except that Jeremiah is too stubborn to embrace his true nature. But, hey, what are big brothers for if not to give you a little push sometimes?
Relationships: Jeremiah Valeska/Jerome Valeska
Comments: 2
Kudos: 68





	Unsettled Nighttime Creatures

**Author's Note:**

> All child abuse, CSA, and COCSA is past but some of it is pretty heavy so that’s why I tagged it

Jerome’s brother is the worst Omega in the world. Omegas are supposed to be sweet and gentle with a natural inclination to please their Alphas. But Jeremiah is a selfish, manipulative, cold-hearted little bitch, and worst of all, too stubborn to even admit what he really is. When they were fourteen, as soon as Jerome presented as an Alpha and Jeremiah as an Omega, Jeremiah invented a pill to mask his scent every cycle and stopped leaving the trailer (which, Jerome actually doesn’t mind the latter. He likes always knowing where _his_ little Miah is).

Jeremiah is a horrible Omega and an infuriating brother, but Jerome loves him so much that it fucking _hurts_. Even before he could put it into words, Jerome knew that he loved his brother more than is ‘normal’. The mere sight or sound of his prettier, meeker twin has always sparked a violent sort of tenderness within Jerome. The closest analogy Jerome can think of is when someone sees an impossibly, overwhelmingly _cute_ puppy or kitten and they just want to squeeze it until it pops!

_“Hugs, Miah!” Jerome would announce, and Jeremiah would take off running._

_A giggling Jerome would always catch him, pinning him down and squeezing him tight, pinching and scratching all over his body like a feral kitten. He didn’t really want to hurt Miah, he just liked the way he squirmed and whined under him. It was that aggressive tenderness, a desire to be close to him._

_“I love you, Miah.” He’d say over and over and not let him go until Jeremiah said it back at least three times:_

_“Love you too, Jay.”_

For most of their childhood, Jeremiah simply tolerated Jerome’s unrelenting need to touch him and express affection; letting Jerome hold one of his hands and rest his chin on his shoulder while he drew his mazes, letting Jerome hug him tightly until he finally had enough and had to scratch his way out of Jerome’s arms, even letting Jerome spoon him at night (not that he had much choice since they shared a bed). He claims he only allows it because mean Jerome bullied him into it, but Jerome knows he loves the attention, knowing that Jerome wants him.

It was rare for Jeremiah to show affection to anyone or anything. Where Jerome loved animals and dolls and things he could love on (and torture but that was always part of love for him, cutting up barbies and terrorizing little brothers); Jeremiah was focused on machines and books, all the cold mechanics of how things work. Throughout all their miserable, nightmarish childhood, there was only place where Jeremiah’s sweet, submissive nature actually showed…

_Jeremiah’s cool, dry hands brushed against his skin gently when he tended to Jerome’s wounds, his eyes sharp and focused as the gleaming blade of a scalpel – but Jerome could see the sadness hidden under there even if he didn’t know how or what to say to make it better. Jerome liked stitches the best, they took longer._

_“Almost done, Jay.” Jeremiah said softly, his knuckles stroking Jerome’s cheek and chin. If Jeremiah wasn’t holding a thread pierced through his lip, Jerome would have kissed those knuckles like a gentleman in an old movie._

_With the soft pads of his fingers, Jeremiah gently holds in place the hot, sore skin of Jerome’s upper lip, then another sharp pain and a light tug. Jerome doesn’t take his eyes off Jeremiah, he rarely does. He pays attention to every little detail of him. Miah’s fingers are covered in Jerome’s blood when he pulls away, and Jerome cannot explain why that gives him a sense of satisfaction._

_“You’re getting good at that, ya know. Maybe you’ll be a cute little nurse someday, and I will be your favorite patient.” Jerome teased past a slight slur._

_“One day, you’ll be big enough you won’t need a nurse.” Jeremiah murmured; his eyes clouded in sadness for a moment before he snapped out of it. “But I’m going to be a surgeon and you know that, jerkface.”_

_Jerome smiled, even though it tugged the fresh stitches on his bottom lip. He loves the way Jeremiah’s neck stiffens and his lips purse when he gets all arrogant and bragging, it makes him look like some pretty little bird fluffing its feathers._

_“We have the same face, jerkface. Mine is just bloodier and yours is prettier.”_

_Jeremiah’s eyebrows furrowed as he started to wash his blood-stained hands._

_“It won’t always be like this. Someday you’ll probably be famous, and everyone will love you.”_

_Jeremiah dried off his hands, but pinkish stains remained. He wetted a towel._

_“But I won’t love anyone but you, baby brother.”_

_Jerome kept smiling as Jeremiah began to dap at the partially crusted blood around his mouth, carefully avoiding the fresh stitches._

_“Stop smiling.”_

_“Oh, sorry, no smiles allowed around the grumpy wittle baby brother.”_

_“You’ll mess up my stitches. And stop calling me that. We’re twins.”_

_“I was born first.”_

_“You don’t know that mom hasn’t told us our birth story. She probably doesn’t even remember.”_

_“Well, I’m bigger and stronger so I’m the big brother and you’re my baby.”_

_Jeremiah took the bloody washcloth back to the sink with a sigh._

_“We’re the same height, you’re not even bigger.” (Jerome would later point out that after presenting as an Alpha, he is bigger so HAH!)_

_Suddenly, Jerome jumped up from his seat on the toilet and backed Jeremiah against the counter._

_“Really, baby? You wanna fight me and prove that?”_

_Jeremiah rolled his eyes at him in the mirror, but Jerome felt him tense._

_“I just finished suturing your lip, Jay, and your ribs are still bruised. I’m not going to fight you.”_

_“Mmhmm, and we both know I’d still win. But wouldn’t split your lip, baby, I’d just attack you with kisses.” Jerome kissed Jeremiah’s cheek hard even though it hurt. “Because I wuv you too much!”_

_“Jay! Stitches!” He whined._

_Jeremiah pushed his shoulder and when he was far enough away, gave him a placating kiss on his forehead._

_“You should get some sleep.”_

_“You know I can’t sleep without you. My little teddy bear.”_

_In his sleep, Jeremiah’s face looked soft and innocent and sometimes he nuzzled into Jerome’s chest with breathy little whine until Jerome petted his hair. Jerome whispered, “I love you.” into Jeremiah’s deaf ears, knowing that his definition of those words is different than most brothers and not knowing how to make Jeremiah hear him._

Jerome knows his good Omega is there under all that bitchiness, and what are big brothers for if not to help their baby siblings face their fears? Now that they’re eighteen, Jerome has his own loyal gang of Alphas and Betas who helped him dispose of mommy dearest and Uncle Zach, there’s no one to get in Jerome’s way.

“Honey, I’m home!” Jerome yells and he slams open the door to the trailer that is now his and Jeremiah’s.

Jeremiah doesn’t respond, he never does. Jerome has no idea why Miah thinks he can hide from him, but it is cute that he tries.

  
  
“Miaaaah! Don’t be rude, baby, come say hi to daddy!... Ah, there you are!”

He finds Jeremiah in their bedroom scribbling away at a drawing on his nerdy little desk, a pile of pencil shavings and overdue or stolen library books around him (Miah’s dark side is literally hording books). When he sees Jerome, his back shoots up straight and he tenses, his eyes shooting back and forth like a bunny rabbit in a field. God, Jerome loves him so fucking much.

“You know it hurts big brother’s feelings when you ignore me like that?” Jerome saunters over and lays his arm lazily around Miah’s slender shoulders, planting a loud, wet kiss on his cheek that makes him squirm and wipe at his pink little face.

“Shockingly, I have better things to do than be harassed by you.” Jeremiah deadpans, but doesn’t bother trying to shove Jerome off.

As an Alpha he gets stronger and meaner every day; days spent in the sun making his skin tan and his hair shine copper, whereas Jeremiah’s Omega build, and reclusive ways keep him pale and skinny with almost brown hair. When they were children, not even their own mom could tell them apart and would often end up hitting the wrong one, but now they are looking less like twins and more like big and little brother. Jeremiah is becoming painfully aware of how dangerous the situation is getting, but who else does he have?

“Oh, I seriously doubt that. I’m the only fun thing in your sad, nerdy little existence. Without me, I think you would wither away into a pile of books or float away with the wind like the world’s saddest paper weight.” Jerome muses, making grad gestures with his arms and nearly smacking Jeremiah’s glasses off.

“Fun is not how I would describe getting bullied and pestered.” Jeremiah finally tries to squirm away, but Jerome tightens his grip.

“Bullied? Aww, poor baby Miah. Is big brother being mean to you?” Jerome gives him a _noogie_ , messing Jeremiah’s neater, darker hair with his knuckles.

Jeremiah nearly falls out of the chair trying to wiggle away, whining “Stop it! You overgrown toddler!”

“Did you see the newest movie I sent you? Tasty stuff, right?” Jerome interrogates, his arm wrapping around Jeremiah’s neck but not squeezing hard enough to choke him (and Miah thinks he isn’t soft on him? Pfft!).

“Yes, I watched it, now let me go!” Jeremiah scratches at his arms but it has no affect other than making Jerome hum at the sensation. Miah’s chewed-to-the-nub nails have nothing on the fake talons mommy dearest used to dig into his skin.

“Are you lying?” Jerome tightens his grip enough to cut off airflow for only a moment before letting Miah breath again. He makes a bit of a show of gagging.

“No, I fucking watched it! You – you cut off a guy’s cock. What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Pfft, he deserved it. He was a kiddie toucher, even I don’t fuck with that…”

“Did it make your boypussy wet?” Jerome whispers in his ear, licking his face like a dog and making him squeal and kick. Miah’s always had a little thing with germs, it’s cute like everything about him.

“It made me want to vomit, just like you. I hate you!” Jerome rolls his eyes. That’s always Miah’s go to, but Jerome knows that Jeremiah has the same craving for violence as him. It’s just another thing he won’t admit, but Jerome knows they’re the same and always have been.

_“I hate you! I hate you!” Miah cried when Jerome first touched his penis, making his face blush and pretty, glossy tears spill down his cheeks._

_He didn’t even hurt him, but of course Miah had to be a cry baby about every little thing._

_“Well, I love you enough for both of us._ ” _Jerome kissed him on the mouth, which they were getting too old for according to Uncle Zach, but Jerome wouldn’t stop kissing his baby brother for anything_.

“ _You’re ruining our birthday, I hate you…” Jerome kissed those words away too, petting his brother’s hair like soothing a naughty kitten._

_“I just want to play with you, Miah. I won’t hurt you like mommy and uncle did, pinky promise._ ”

_Jerome did make his brother squirt out a dollop of watery cum, but he whined and said he hated Jerome to whole time. And the red, wet look on his face when Jerome licked it up, ah memories._

Jerome lets him go for only a moment and he bolts like the startled little rabbit he is, Jerome blocks the exit and Jeremiah sighs, resigning himself to sit as far into the corner of _their_ bed as possible, his knees tucked under his chin as he takes off his askew glasses and cleans the fog from them. Miah tried to move into mom’s bed after she left, but Jerome dragged it outside and set it on fire so they could stay together, and to burn away the evil whore’s smell.

“You know, baby brother,” Jerome singsongs, sauntering closer to their bed with a slightly theatrical sway. “I could be _sooo_ nice to you if you just stopped taking those pills of yours.”

Jeremiah’s face instantly goes beat-red, his eyes widening slightly as he glares daggers at his twin who sits mock-casually on the other end of the bed.

“I promise I’ll be gentle if you’re a good boy for daddy.” Jerome’s voice drops to the near growl he uses in those horrific videos, only lacking the anger. It makes Jeremiah’s entire body shiver.

  
“Shut up, you’re so disgusting. We’re _brothers_.” Jeremiah spits, but there’s a slight breathlessness to his words.

Deep down, Jerome knows Jeremiah is just as much a pervert as him. I mean, who can blame them with their traumatic childhood and hereditary predisposition and all that?

“Mmhmm, and Lila was our mommy but that didn’t stop –“  
  


“ _Don’t_! Please, don’t. Not about that, Jay, please.” Jeremiah looks like he may cry, and as delicious as the sight is, Jerome wants Miah’s tears to be for him not for that cunt.

The nights when Lila couldn’t get any men to come home with her and dragged her sweet, perfect son into her bedroom to force his perfect, tiny mouth to her disgusting cunt or when Uncle Zach wanted to used Miah to show Jerome what an obedient, useful child looks like really fucked Miah up. They did the same shit to Jerome, when beating him up got Lila or Uncle Zach a little too excited, they’d pin his bruised, weeping body down and rub themselves against him all the while spitting how that was all he was good for.

It didn’t bother Jerome as much, not as much as the beatings themselves or when she let her men have a go at him (of course, they thought they were getting the perfect baby Omega not the evil baby Alpha, but Jerome was very good at pretending to be Jeremiah when he had to).

_Jerome shoved his twin into the closet, holding a palm over his mouth and feeling his spit and tears wet his hand._

_“Shh, Miah, quiet. Stay in here and be quiet, okay? Big brother’s gonna take care of it. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”_ _except himself, of course. “I love you. I’ll be fine, okay? You can kiss it better when I get back.”_

_Jerome handed him a pillow to bite on and locked him in until he could limp back to their room hours later to let him out. That was one of the few things his bratty little brother actually appreciated._

_“I’m so sorry, Jay. I’m sorry I’m so weak-“_

_“Shut up, Miah.” Jerome whispered gently. “It’s fine. Just get me an icepack and a towel, it’s bleeding.”_

_It was almost worth it to have Jeremiah’s soft, apologetic lips kissing him all over all night long. It wasn’t entirely selfless though; Jerome knew then that Jeremiah was meant to be his and there was no way he’d let Uncle Zach or any of those fucking clowns rip open the hole that belonged to Jerome._

“Is that why you made those pills, Miah? You’re too scared to let anyone else touch your pretty little body?” Jerome asks, trying to keep mocking out of his voice and half-succeeding.

“Jay… please, leave me alone.”

“I can’t. We’ve been together since the womb; we can’t stop now.” Jerome scoots closer and Jeremiah doesn’t scoot away but he keeps his legs tight to his chest and his jaw stubbornly clenched.

Jerome pulls up the covers on his side, gesturing for Jeremiah to come closer. He doesn’t. So much for the inherent obedience of Omegas. But Jerome takes a deep breath, reminding himself that once he officially mates with Jeremiah, things will be different. He’ll see who he really is and start acting like the Omega that he should.

“Miah. Come. Here.” Jeremiah flinches away. “Urg, I’m not gonna bad touch you! I just want to hold you, crybaby. Now get the fuck over here.”

Finally, Jeremiah obeys with his best pout in place. Maybe it’s narcissistic but Jerome really does think Miah is the single most beautiful thing in the world.

“That’s it, come sit on daddy’s lap. Good boy.” Jerome coos, pulling Miah closer with rough, greedy hands.

“Stop that. You’re barely an ‘older’ brother, much less my dad.” Jeremiah says as he settles his lithe body onto Jerome’s lap like a child in need of comfort.

“I’m not your dad, I’m your daddy. Big difference. Daddyhood is not about age, it’s a status one reaches, and I’m there, princess.”

Jeremiah rolls his moist eyes, hiding his face into Jerome’s shoulders, hating how much he smells like home.

“Aww, you are a sweetheart when you want to be.” Jerome combs his fingers through Miah’s hair, ignoring how he flinches and managing to keep his touch gentle to not startle this skittish little rabbit.

“Shut up. Don’t ruin it.” Jeremiah mumbles.

“I’m afraid ruining things is what I do, dear brother.” Jerome kisses his forehead, his lips hot as a brand.

Jeremiah isn’t surprised when his pills have vanished the next morning. If anything, he’s surprised it took this long for Jerome to do it. But when he sees the secret backup pills he hid in a ziplock bag tucked in the hole in the bathroom wall, Jeremiah panics.

“JAY! WHERE THE FUCK ARE MY PILLS?” Jeremiah storms into the living room red-faced and teary eyed.

“I don’t know, Miah, do you expect me to have a map of the sewer system?”

Jerome expects a blow, but Jeremiah throwing a whole ass wooden chair at his head is a bit overdramatic. Jerome ducks out of the way and cackles as Jeremiah runs towards him, clawing at his throat and screeching like an animal. Jerome easily pins his hands behind his back and straddles him on the floor while Jeremiah tries to knee him in the nuts.

“Damn, you are a vicious bitch under all that crybaby shit, aren’t ya?” Jerome’s face is split into a grin.

“I fucking hate you! I hate you, I hate you, you’re the bane of my existence and I should have eaten you in the womb!”

“Hmm, as delicious as baby Jerome sounds-“ Jerome starts but Jeremiah isn’t done apparently.

“You’re a festering infection, oozing your poison into my life like pustule of evilness! I hate you, I hate you, I fucking hate you!” Jeremiah screams until he loses his breath to sobs.

Jerome’s smile doesn’t falter. He knows that Miah’s tongue gets sharp when he’s _afraid_.

“You done with your tantrum, baby brother?”

“I’m never going to mate to you.” Jeremiah rasps, his voice breaking.

“You don’t know anyone else and, not to be a _bully_ , but do you really think anyone else is going to love you as much as I do? They won’t, because no one else sees who you really are. I’m the one who has always been here for you! Me!”

“I don’t want to mate AT ALL, idiot!”

Jeremiah tries to headbutt him, but Jerome is quicker.

“Sweetheart, you have to mate. It’s in your nature. Don’t try to fight it.” Jerome’s voice is surprisingly soft, like what they imagine a mother gently explaining something to a child would sound like.

“What are you going to do, Jerome? Force me?” There’s a glint of excitement in Jeremiah’s eyes. _Pervert_. Jerome laughs, kissing Jeremiah’s cheek affectionately and making him whimper.

“Oh, you would just _looove_ that, wouldn’t you? You’d love an excuse cry and beg ‘ _Jay, please, please don’t!_ ’ while mean, scary big brother _makes_ you do it, then you get to just be the innocent little victim. And, hey, I’d love that too! No one cries as pretty as you do, baby boy, but no, I’m not gonna touch you until you beg for it and admit how much you want your twin’s cock because you’re just as fucked up as I am.”

Jeremiah gives him the silent treatment for the rest of the day (and for once, Jerome lets him instead of forcing him to break his silence with ‘ _No, Jay, stop_!’). By the next morning, Jerome can smell him; a feverishly sweet aroma like burnt caramel popcorn and a scent that Jerome can only describe as ‘Miah’. Half-awake, Jerome finds himself rutting into the skinny, soft body in his arms, his eight-inch cock rubbing between Miah’s pert cheeks through the fabric of their underwear. Miah is a heavy sleeper… But no, Jerome thinks with a groan.

He’s not touching the little brat until he begs for it. It’ll be worth it to know that Jeremiah can no longer use the ‘big brother bullied me into it’ excuse. Pulling away and getting out of bed is physically painful, Jerome’s cock aches with a deep, dull burn. It feels like trying to make himself stay awake when he’s exhausted and in a comfortable spot, the agony of resisting such a basic need. But he manages, it’s a good thing Jerome is so used to pain and that he loves Jeremiah enough to put up with this shit. He takes a cold shower to numb his desperate, hot, and tingling flesh.

Jeremiah wakes up while the shower is running, furrowing his brow at the sound as he puts on his glasses. Hygiene has never been Jerome’s biggest priority, and he’s not a morning person. It makes Jeremiah’s quick, busy brain swarm with suspicions. A brief overview of his own body doesn’t show any signs of molestation. Yet. Is Jerome trying to tempt him into taking a shower together. He rolls his eyes. Jerome has tried barging in on Jeremiah while he’s in the shower before, insisting ‘we basically have the same body, calm down’.

His mind still racing with too many thoughts for him to keep track of, Jeremiah dresses himself in the most baggy clothes he can find (some of it may be stuff Jerome has outgrown, they used to share the same clothes all the time) and heads to the kitchen. He makes iced coffee and pours himself two cups because he knows Jerome will grab the one in his hand instead of just pouring his own, ‘ _it tastes better when it’s touched your lips, Miah’_. Jeremiah sighs preemptively, settling down on the lumpy couch and hating his life.

Maybe Jeremiah should feel more different. He feels slightly feverish, his breath coming quicker and his skin warm to the touch. He feels empty, like there is a hollowness deep inside him. As if he is missing a vital organ he had yesterday – or simply didn’t realize he didn’t have until today. _Is it Jerome’s cock_? A cruel voice in the back of Jeremiah’s head taunts. He shakes it away. No, this is a basic, if unpleasant, natural instinct that has nothing to do with Jerome and his impressively long but not too thick cock that always stands hard and proud in Jeremiah’s presence.

Some of Jeremiah’s coffee spills down his front while he’s thinking. He curses under his breath. It would be much simpler if Jeremiah could simply go out and get fucked then be done with it, but only Betas can do that. Alphas and Omegas breed for life. Jeremiah cannot let himself be bond forever to someone he doesn’t or barely knows. But he’s not about to ‘beg’ for his obnoxious, bullying, crass brother’s cock. Nope. Not happening.

“Ooo, coffee.” Jeremiah’s cup is pulled from his hand. “What a good domestic Omega you are.” Jerome musses his hair, breathing through his mouth and trying not to notice how he can feel the heat of Jeremiah’s skin under his fingertips.

Jerome sits next to him as if it’s no big deal, not touching but close enough to smell. His smell is the same bittersweet aroma of ‘home’ mixed with something salty and dense which should be gross but isn’t. Jeremiah grabs the second cup from the table and hides his face in it, inhaling the smell of coffee and sugar. Still, he can feel moisture beading in his hole, the muscles there aching against its emptiness. But its not because Jerome is close. If a clown sat next to him, Jeremiah would still be horny, and it’s all because a certain bane of his existence stole his pills and he’s never gone without them. It’s not about Jerome, it’s simple biology. That’s all, and Jeremiah can make it through until his cycle passes and he can make another batch of suppressants.

“Hey!” He yelps when something soft is thrown against his face. “What is wrong with you?”

He turns to see Jerome has downed the half of coffee and is now leaning his back against the armrest, his bare feet poking uncomfortably at Jeremiah. The contact feels far more intense than it should be through three layers of clothes.

“The eternal question, isn’t it? But you… you were miles away, Miah. What were you thinking about?” Jerome waggles his eyebrows and smirks.

“I was contemplating what sins I must have committed in my past life to have you born beside me as my personal tormentor.” Jeremiah deadpans, not looking at Jerome who is lifting his leg up dangerously high considering he’s still only wearing a towel.

“I don’t know. You probably did something boring and creepy like fuck dead bodies and hide them under your floorboards just for the company.” Jerome rests his foot on Jeremiah’s shoulder, he could pull away or tell him to stop but that would just encourage him. Jerome is literally like a fucking toddler.

“Dennis Nilsen? The timeline doesn’t match up, but thanks a lot, brother.” Jeremiah’s voice drops in sarcasm.

“I was probably Jack the Ripper. Running around at night, cutting up whores like mom sounds more fun.”

“I’m not convinced that you aren’t currently doing that.”

Jerome laughs with an eerie boyishness. “Well, I don’t kill unless I need to. Too much hassle.”

Jeremiah finally snaps and pushes Jerome’s foot off of him when he starts trying to brush his hair back with his toes.

“Uh, rude. I even washed them for you.”

“Rude is treating your brother like a footstool.” Jeremiah’s voice comes out breathless as he’s suddenly flooded with images of himself on his hands and knees at Jerome’s feet… Urg, _stupid_ hormones.

“No, rude is giving your beloved, kind, generous, sexy sibling the bluest balls of his life and yet here you are.” Jerome sits up quickly and pulls his legs in so he’s sitting cross-legged facing Jeremiah.

Jeremiah scoots away. Jerome scoots closer. Jeremiah tries not to notice that his fully erect, reddened cock is peeking out through his slipping towel, but a tiny, high-pitched sound slips out as his hole begins to clench and unclench like a hungry little mouth.

Jeremiah jumps off the couch and bolts towards the bedroom or even out the door because right now even that seems less terrifying. As always, Jerome blocks his escape.

“Where are you going, baby? I said I wouldn’t force you, and you don’t want your disgusting, possible serial killer brother anyways, right? So, we’re all fine here.”

“Maybe I just want a moment of peace for once in my life, Jay.” Jeremiah’s voice is starting to sound choked; his bony legs are clenching together and trembling, desperate for any friction.

Jeremiah’s body feels similar to when he’s dehydrated or very hungry but for someone, namely Jerome, to fuck him right now. Jeremiah thought he would last longer than this but his anger at himself is hard to focus on through his haze. Jerome is watching the resignation begin to fall over his features with predatory focus.

“I think you want something, baby boy, but it’s not peace.” Jerome reaches out to stroke his hot, rosy cheek.

“Okay, fine, Jay, you win! I wa – no, I need you to fuck me. It’s a biological thing, let’s get it over with.”

Jerome scoffs with a mean smile.

  
“I didn’t say demand. I said _beg_.” Jerome points towards the ground at his feet.

Jeremiah’s cheeks heat, but his hole feels like it’s on fire, his shivers are raking through his entire body and there’s nowhere else he can go. Jerome is all he has. Helpless tears spill down his face.

“I hate you.” Jeremiah says breathlessly, just for the sake of saying it.

“So, you’ve said.” Jerome looks pointedly at the ground and then back at his twin.

With a defeated whimper and his eyes downcast, Jeremiah stumbles to his knees, his fingers clutching at the hem of his sweater and his stomach churning with a heavy blend excitement and shame.

“Please, Jay. I – I need you to fuck me. Please.” Jeremiah forces out the words, Jerome’s cock in his face like a threat and a treat.

“Hmm,” Jerome takes a teasing step closer, but pulls Miah’s head back by his hair when he tries to get to his cock. “I think you can do better than that.”

Jeremiah isn’t used to his mind being so focused on one simple thing at once. Maybe it would be a pleasant change if all his skin wasn’t tingling with oversensitivity and the agonizing need to be touched.

“Jaaaay,” He whines, and rubs into the hand gripping his hair. “Please, please, I need you, please.” Tears continue to stream down his face.

Jerome’s hand strokes his scalp approvingly, his fingers running down his neck. The sensation is overwhelming, so good that it’s painful. In the back of Jeremiah’s mind, he realizes how ridiculous he looks, but only distantly.

“Please, big brother.” Jeremiah adds in desperation. “I’ll do anything.” He hears himself say before realizing how bad of an idea that is.

With a groan Jerome rubs the moist head of his cock against Jeremiah’s cheek, his hand holding his head in place. Precum mixes with his tears and makes his cheeks glisten like rubies.

“Kiss my feet.” Jerome orders, his eyes gleaming hungrily.

It takes Jeremiah’s brain a moment to process that odd command, but with liquid spilling down his crack and his hole pulsating with pain, it doesn’t seem like too much to do if it will ease his need. He bends down and kisses the top of Jerome’s foot. When he picks it up, Jeremiah kisses the underside too, his lips lingering on the soft skin in the center. All the while, he is blinking up at Jerome through a haze of tears.

“Good boy. That is a sight for a fucking museum.” Jerome growls, it’s the first time Jerome has heard that Alpha sound come from Jerome’s throat, and it sends shivers up his already trembling spine.

In a flurry of movement, Jerome crouches down, rips Miah’s pants with a loud tearing sound, and roughly arranges Miah onto his back with his legs spread and bent like little bird wings. Like the little birds Jerome loved to play with as a kid, plucking their feathers and breaking their tiny bones one by one.

Jeremiah lets out a high-pitched scream of pleasure and pain when Jerome eases his way into Miah’s weeping virginal hole, keeping his hands on Miah’s kneecaps in case he tries to close his legs in pain. Jerome kisses his mouth and swallows down his cries. Jerome gives a few hard, rapid thrusts that make Jeremiah scream-cry in short, agonizes bursts before remembering his promise with a frustrated moan.

Miah _is_ being a good boy and he _did_ promise to be gentle (why the fuck did he say that again?). Jerome slows his rhythm, thrusting in deep and steady until his knot forms. Jeremiah bites down on his lip when the knot forms deep inside of him, making their kiss taste of copper and salt. Jerome licks up the blood and bites back, nipping down Jeremiah’s chin and throat until he’s decorated in tiny red beads and he’s squirming to escape but there is none with Jerome’s weight on top of him and his knot holding them together.

“I love you. I love you so fucking much.” Jerome growls into Miah’s open, mewling mouth. For the first time, Jerome knows that Jeremiah knows what he means by that.

As Jerome continues to rut his hips and lick the blood from Miah’s throat, he sees some of the hormonal haze leak from Jeremiah’s eyes. He blinks up at Jerome with unreadable eyes. Jerome feels an unfamiliar pang in his chest, an unexpected realization that he doesn’t want Miah to suddenly change his mind and try to pull away from the knot. He want him to want this.

“Shh, you’re okay, baby. I love you.” Jerome brushes back his disheveled hair and kisses his sweat-soaked forehead. “You’re my good boy.”

Jeremiah whines weakly as Jerome’s seed unloads deep inside him, bonding them together for life. The way it was always meant to be. Fresh, silent tears drip from Miah’s eyes and into his hairline, and Jerome finds himself hoping they are tears of joy and that Jeremiah doesn’t hate him too much in the morning.

**Author's Note:**

> This was going to be a one-shot but I want to continue and see how Miah will react to this change in dynamic once he's more in his right mind and can go back to his bratty sub self. Comments keep me going and make my day! <3


End file.
